"Plenty o willin gals in de Quarters, June. Whyn' you marry one an' settle down an' have a home o you own, stead o livin with Doll?"
June chewed on, then he turned and looked full in Mary's eyes.
"I'd been a-married an' settled down long time ago if I could a had my way. But July got my gal." He spat and sighed deep. "What is done is done. Nobody can' change em. I'm gwine off on de boat dis evenin. I'm gwine to some far country where I don' know nobody."
"You must be ain' well, June. You must a eat someting heavy fo you breakfast to talk such a sad talk."
"I ain' hardly eat no breakfast. I ain' had a bit o appetite, here lately."
"How about tastin a piece o hot sweetened bread? E's just ready to come out de oven."
She hurried to the hearth and broke him a piece of the bread, then she reached up on the mantel and took down the love-charm. She could not let June go off and leave her.
Should she touch him with it, or hold it in her hand? To be certain she would do both. Holding the tiny bag tight, she rested her fingers on his shoulder.
"June," she said in a voice that was husky and
